Visibly Distracted
by Miss Shannon
Summary: Provenza confronts Flynn about his recent weird behavior. With interesting results.


**Visibly Distracted**

Lieutenant Andrew Flynn of the Major Crimes squad rolled his eyes at the ceiling and turned around to face his partner, hands buried deeply in his trouser pockets, shoulders slumped to convey his rather fundamental annoyance at the world in general and Provenza in particular. He took one hand out and made a quick circle in the air with it, urging Provenza to hurry the hell up.

"What is it you wanted to talk about, huh?" he growled, short-tempered. His mood seemed to alternate from anger to sudden serenity at every turn and he couldn't tell why for the life of him. It wasn't due to his high blood pressure, that much he knew, but somehow that didn't make him worry any less. And now Provenza had practically grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the break room, forcefully closing the door into Amy Sykes' face. Sometimes he couldn't believe that woman's lack of tact.

"You don't know?" Provenza barked more than he grumbled which alerted Flynn to the fact that something was up. The old man didn't make the effort to raise his voice very often as he was perfectly capable of pissing everyone off royally without using up all the air in his lungs. He looked flushed, too, his cheeks tinted in red slightly, his breath coming out in irregular little puffs.

"No, I don't!" Flynn threw his hands up, somehow unable to stand still nowadays. The whole week had been a mess. One time he'd spilled coffee all over himself, another time he'd run into a doorframe, seriously bruising his shoulder, and for some obscure reason he had been absolutely unable to remember their young suspect's name, repeatedly calling him Steve instead of Dean during the interview. Being like that made him angry at best, because a very small but nasty part of him was sure that he was losing his mind. He liked his job and it wasn't like him to be this-

"Distracted, Flynn! You are distracted! Visibly! Everyone notices!" Provenza was almost shouting now which should have warned Flynn, but annoyed him even more instead. He turned around and grabbed a paper cup from the shelf to pour himself a healthy dose of coffee. Maybe that would help sharpen his senses. "Fine! Don't deal with me then!" If possible, his partner's voice had grown even more aggravated.

Flynn sipped his coffee and he could tell from the taste of it that it was one of the rare occasion that Sharon had made it. While she had tea most days, whenever she felt in need of coffee, she had it black and impossibly strong. Like that day after her husband had answered her phone in the middle of the night. Back then he'd found it funny but today the memory made him clench his fist in sudden unexpected anger.

"What the hell, Flynn?!" Provenza's angry shout was what made him realize that he had squeezed the paper cup he was holding and that lukewarm coffee was running down his hand, soaking his white cuff and spilling on to Provenza's shoes. Why the heck was the old coot standing that close, anyway?

"Get over yourself, little girl," Andy hissed back. "It's only coffee and it isn't even hot." He turned towards the sink and washed his hands, eagerly avoiding Provenza's eyes. The old man's voice was surprisingly low and uncomfortably close when he spoke again.

"You've been calling the Captain Sharon all day."

"I have not!" Flynn physically abused a paper towel by scrubbing it along his knuckles as if he was trying to rub off the skin and then making it into a small ball and tossing it in the general direction of the garbage bin. He wasn't even sure why he became so irritable at the notion.

"You have!" Provenza disagreed earnestly. "Are you... seeing her outside of work?"

Flynn turned on his heel at the question to tower over Provenza menacingly, very close to throttling his partner. "Of course not! What the hell, Provenza? She is almost as old as I am!"

"God, Flynn! I didn't mean in a romantic way! For all I know you could be helping her with the kid or with whatever! Why does it have to be about romance?"

"Romance?" Flynn asked breathlessly. "Are you fucking _insane_? The Captain and I? That is ridiculous!" He tried a laugh but it sounded nervous rather than amused. A second later Provenza's eyes narrowed and Flynn felt dreadful. Wherever that stupid laugh had come from, Provenza was now up to something.

He dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Seriously, Provenza. I have no idea why I called her by her first name. It is certainly not because we were doing anything inappropriate," he tried to reason. "I think it's all because my mind's going. Look at me, I've been a wreck all week."

"Yeah, that!" Provenza's voice still carried a hint of accusation, but his expression had softened and he seemed as sympathetic as he ever got. "What is up, Flynn? Something happen?"

"I don't know!" Flynn shrugged. "Nothing really. I had a really quiet weekend and everything was okay when I came in Monday morning, but then-"

They were both quiet for a moment, pondering the problem. Monday had been rather uneventful, too. They had been wrapping up their latest case, everyone effectively chained to their desks, doing paperwork. Sharon- the Captain had been in meetings most of the morning and had only returned when everyone but Flynn had left for lunch. He had been picking his lousy salad, hating himself for still sticking to the goddamn diet his doctor had recommended. He was, after all, taking those goddamn pills. Why would he still have to change his lifestyle now? He'd looked up at the sound of her heels as she had made her entrance, arms full of files. He remembered greeting her with a relaxed "Hey, Captain" (back in the good old days when he had still been able to address her by her rank rather than her first name). Sharon, previously unaware of his presence, had shrieked in shock and dropped all of her files. Yeah, he did remember kneeling on the floor with her, picking up files and apologizing over and over for having startled her. Having mostly reassembled the pile of folders, they had both reached for the last one, unceremoniously bumping their foreheads together. Sharon had given a hum, he had probably cursed under his breath. Both apologizing profusely, he had reached out his hand for her to help her to her feet. He had been about to make a comment about it being difficult to get up in a tight skirt and stiletto heels when it had registered with him just like that. As hard as Flynn had been trying not to think about it, it had all come back that instant: She looked absolutely gorgeous in that skirt and those heels. And she had at the wedding, that goddamn wedding.

"Wasn't Monday when you had lunch with the Captain? Sneaky you, pretending to be on a diet and then taking her out to Luigi's!"

"Yeah," Andy said weakly. She'd been tossing her hair a lot at that lunch. Had laughed more than usual. Had even touched his arm once, if only briefly. _Oh god. _He suddenly understood his unsteady moods, the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. His mood swings weren't as random as he had thought they were, he now saw.

"Good god, I got angry whenever she wasn't in the room."

"What the-?" Provenza barked, now fully irritated again. It was almost a relief to be yelled at, Andy thought, because his head felt like it was filled with gelatin and his heart had taken up merrily skipping beats every few seconds. Of course it hadn't started over that lunch, he wasn't kidding anyone. He would have probably never even dreamed of asking her out to Luigi's if they hadn't been to that stupid wedding together. (It hadn't been that stupid, actually. Nicole had been a beautiful bride, but then there was the small thing of-).

_It just couldn't be._

If there was one thing Andy Flynn hated with a vengeance, it was that fuzzy feeling in his chest that had been plaguing him all week. The sudden, unexpected need to smile and then the urge to jump out of his skin and crash his head into a wall. It was all very familiar.

It could only mean one thing.

"When who wasn't in the room?" Provenza asked weakly, but he didn't feel the need to answer. There was only one 'she' he could be referring to, after all.

Then there was silence. They looked at each other, jaws slack and eyes wide, hands at their sides like to robots whose batteries had been removed. The silence was deafening and seemed to last for decades. What was going on in Flynn's stomach didn't feel like the proverbial butterflies, it felt like a goddamn herd of elephants whose heavy steps were shaking up his insides.

Provenza was still staring.

There was a reason for everything that had been occuring this week and despite of what he had been thinking, it was not madness. That, however, would not necessarily prevent him from getting taken away in a straight jacket, Flynn thought. Mental illness was not an embarrassment. Falling for your boss was.

Provenza started moving very slowly as if he was afraid of Andy. Then he suddenly lurched towards the counter, grabbed a roll of kitchen towels and began to hit Andy in the head with it. Although his weapon of choice was rather soft, the repeated onslaughts, carried out with as much force as possible, did inflict a dull pain onto Flynn's head and sometimes jaw as Provenza didn't always hit his intended target.

"Are- you- crazy?!" Provenza puffed in between hits. "Are- you- completely- out- of- your- fucking- mind?!"

Flynn ducked out of his way but found that Provenza was following him, so he abandoned his plan of running back to the Murder Room. Having a bansheeesque Provenza following him around and hitting him with kitchen utensils wasn't very desirable and would certainly attract unwanted attention.

"You can't lust after our Captain, you madman!" Provenza yelled, his voice high and thin and his face ashen.

Frankly, Flynn was a little afraid that the old bastard might be about to suffer a heart attack.

"Shut up!" he told him. "Do you want everyone to know about it- I mean, to hear?"

"SO IT'S TRUE!" Provenza was breathing heavily, his voice now almost a whisper: "Oh god, Flynn."

He hit him once more for emphasis.

"It is beyond my control, okay?" Flynn hissed, holding the door closed with one hand. "I didn't choose to like her and I think I only just realized that I do."

Provenza lowered his weapon and wrung his hands. "You are disgusting, Flynn! I bet every single time you've been staring into space this week, you've been mentally undressing our commanding officer! Arghhhhh! I don't even want to think about it!"

"It's not like that!" Flynn protested honestly. "I guess I just really like her."

"Even worse!" Provenza spat. "You're falling in love with her. God, it's all my fault! I shouldn't have offered to take Rusty out for burgers the day of your daughter's wedding. I should have known she would take pity on you and come with you." He hid his face in his hands for a moment and Flynn almost felt sorry for him.

"Look, now that I know what it is I just have to get over it, okay?" he murmured, deeply embarrassed. "It's not like she'd like me too or something."

Provenza squinted up at Flynn through his fingers, the look in his eyes tortured. "Are you that oblivious, Flynn?"

Despite himself, Flynn's heart was beginning to beat a little faster. "What do you mean?"

"I think we both know that she wouldn't have gone to a wedding with Sanchez or me or even Buzz!" Provenza said.

Flynn stared at him for moment until they were both startled by a knock on the glass. To his horror, he found Sharon standing outside the break room door that he was still leaning against, demanding to be let in.

"Not a word!" he mouthed to Provenza, neglectful of the fact that she could see his lips moving as she was standing no farther away than his partner. They both tried to look casual when she walked in and although she had probably seen quite a bit of their agitated discussion, she didn't comment on it.

"Is there still any coffee left?" she asked, making a beeline for the coffee machine.

"Haven't been sleeping well?" Flynn asked weakly and in a lame attempt to be his usual cocky self.

"Exactly," she sighed, giving him a cautious little smile. "Something's been up all week. I don't know what's wrong with me."

A loud groan from Provenza made her freeze. "Is anything the matter, Lieutenant?"

"Well, nothing," Provenza said, sighing dramatically and throwing a dirty glance at Flynn.

She shook her head in confusion at her lieutenant's obscure antics and turned back towards the counter, pouring coffee for herself and then turned back around.

"I had a another interview with our suspect scheduled for this afternoon. Will you join me, Andy?" she asked, sipping her coffee and looking up at him over the rim of her cup. Heat began to pool in his stomach. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Yes of course, Sharon- Captain!" he quickly said, his tone much softer than he had ever intended.

Provenza hit him in the head again, making Sharon raise her eyebrows.

"Well, I'll see you soon. Andy, Lieutenant!" She nodded at both of them in turn and walked out, leaving two stunned lieutenants behind. She was probably oblivious to the fact that she had addressed one of them by his first name and the other by his rank.

"Oh, Andy," Provenza said in a fake girlish voice. "Let's hold hands while we're grilling Steve... or was it Dean?"

Flynn took the paper towel roll and hit Provenza over the head with it. His friend took it back and hit him in return.

"What are you? Her little puppy? You know what, Flynn? I am going to follow you around all day and if you ever look at her like that again, I'll hit you. And if you don't stop looking at her like that, I'll find something that hurts more. A baseball bat or a chair. I'll even run you over with my car if that helps."

"Shut up," Andy growled and made for the door, but then turned back around. "Look at her like what?"

Provenza folded his hands under his chin and made big, shiny eyes, pouting his lips. Then his face easily slid back into its usual grumpy expression.

"Like that," he said in a dark voice.

"You're obnoxious," Flynn snapped.

"You're in love. That is a lot worse."

Unfortunately, Flynn could not object - as much as he wanted to. Denial, he concluded, had been a much safer place for him indeed.


End file.
